Gravity
by Silly-Blue
Summary: After the clash with Braig, Terra tries to make amends for having used Darkness. But there's a dark gravity at work, pulling them towards a similar direction. It was a gravity that Terra could not defy and Braig didn't even want to try / Braigxfem!Terra


**Author's Notes: **

A faint spark of inspiration or a longing to write for a pairing that works better in my head than when I try to explain it led to this one-shot. It took me about two days to write the first version, but I ended up going back to it and it took a long time to finish. And it still has a rawness to it, that I both like and am insecure about.

Also, deciding to publish took a lot of effort as well. Despite the fact that I think it's already unusual to write Braig x Terra, I gave in to temptation and made this Braig x fem!Terra – with Terra having been female from the start, so it is not commented upon in great detail. I pondered this for a long time, seeing as it doesn't greatly add to the story, but it brings me joy and I felt comfortable with it despite my second-guessing.

The rating's a bit shy of M for tame sexual content towards the end. Slight spoilers for Terra's storyline and the epilogue refers to the ending of the Final Episode and beyond.

* * *

><p><strong>GRAVITY<strong>

That tiny spot of darkness… unconsciously it had extended and extended with every worry, every mistake, every disappointment until it was undoubtedly _there_. Nestled within a niche of her heart, she could feel it there, feel the fluid edges where it slowly tried to wash away the light, expanding, moving towards the very core of her heart. Like the sea, eating away at the land. She felt it every day, darkness rising in waves like tides coming and going with her emotions.

When had darkness become so familiar?

She had asked the question many times; "where had it come from?" But never could anybody give her an answer. She could only try to understand the absence of an explanation, the silence, because silence too had its weight, silence too had its meaning. But when she thought about it, then she didn't want to know. Looking for the answer was like standing at the end of everything she knew, everything she was familiar with and everything she believed. And getting an answer, any kind of answer, she felt would plunge everything into darkness, tear at her heart, rip it apart and leave her helpless. Unrecognizable. _Nothing._

So she continued doing what she had to do, not thinking, just trying to push the thought and the darkness to the very back of her mind and her heart. But it was there, like a shadow, a second her. When she grabbed the Keyblade – _shadow fingers closing over hers, making her weapon heavy, painful_. When she defeated Unversed _– violence making her movements jerky, like rage suddenly taking over, slamming down, crushing, clawing, hating, destroying_. When she talked to her friends – _a hurry, a neglect, a little crack in the bridges of emotions and love between her and the others that kept on expanding, eating away at her substance_. Her and them. No longer _us_. Distance. Disappointment. _No one to trust._

When had this become so difficult?

-o-

Terra had left Radiant Garden behind rather swiftly, fleeing that place of light, that place of shame. A mix of guilt but also exhilaration had squeezed her heart when she had left the boundaries of the world and had raced down the corridors, not knowing where she was headed. But soon the mix of deep darkness and glittering of lights far away had made her cool down.

She was merely drifting now, looking up into space, eyes focused on nothing because there was too much going on in her head. The claws around her heart had relaxed slightly, allowing her to breathe in more evenly, to think more clearly. To think at all, not just to act on impulses.

Master Xehanort believed in her, she still had a place in this world, she was not forsaken, her dream and world had not been shattered yet. He had fulfilled her dearest wish; he had acknowledged her power and her passion, pronouncing her a Keyblade Master. _Finally, finally appreciation._ However, as sweet as it was, it left her hollow. Nothing but short lived pride and a loosely knit security rope that yes, things were going to be alright. But… What did a title matter if she couldn't share her joy with her friends, with her Master? The darkness had tainted and shamed her, especially as she had allowed it to take even greater possession of her. And she had caused damage, using her Keyblade against something else than darkness. It was…

The image of darkness breaking free from that little vibrating knot deep within her and shooting out… She clenched her fists, eyes finally focusing again. _It was not her fault, he had gotten in her way…!_ No… She had to set things right. Her darkness and the traces of destruction it left in her wake were her responsibility. Even if she had to leave, even if she were to abandon her home to follow Master Xehanort, she could not leave a mess behind… She still had enough of the thing called conscience left to tell her that just leaving now was nothing more than cowardice.

With a sudden, but deliberate movement she turned her vehicle around and sped back to Radiant Garden still faintly glimmering in the folds of eternal space ahead.

-o-

She took a deep breath when she set foot in the city again. It felt even more difficult coming back than leaving in the first place. Admittedly, now that she _was_ here she didn't quite know what to do and where to go. However, she remembered why she was here.

"That man… I have to at least find out if he's alright…," she said to herself, putting her hand to her chin, thinking. "He appeared to be a rogue, but I believe the guards of the castle wore the same uniform…" She looked up and could see the castle over the rooftops of the houses. So this was where she had to go look first.

She wasn't quite sure what to expect. Maybe she had to fight again, but she doubted that anybody in their right mind would try to do that after taking such a beating. _She had been good, she had been powerful, she had been devastating._ Terra shook her head, trying to ban these inappropriate thoughts. If he didn't want to fight, then what would she tell him? Explain? Apologize? Was there even any point in apologizing? _It was his fault._

"I'll just make sure that he's alright and then I'll leave again," Terra told herself, swiftly walking up the steps to the castle gates. As expected there were guardians there, one on each side of the immense gate. They didn't make any movement as she approached, but she was sure that they would if she got too close to the entrance.

"You have to stop there, Miss," the dark haired one said, looking at her sternly. Terra did stop, leaving enough space between her and the guards to not unsettle them unnecessarily and waited for the frown to settle back into a disinterested, but still alert expression.

"I don't want to go into the castle. I have a question," she told them. "I am looking for a man. I don't know his name," Terra said, shaking her head, but then she raised her hands to her chest. "But he wore the same uniform as you do. I assume he's a guard as well." The guards remained silent, then they exchanged a look Terra couldn't quite make sense of.

"You must mean Braig," the tall man to the right said. Terra raised her shoulders, shaking her head apologetically. He had never introduced himself. Why should he have anyway, Terra didn't think kidnappers cared much for formalities. And he had been rather rude from the get-go. _Oh, she had wanted to crush him._

"A skinny guy with a loose mouth. Black hair and red scarf," the dark haired guard said slowly, pointing at his neck, then indicating his approximate height. Terra nodded. "Braig."

"And where can I find him?" she wondered. The brown haired guard to the left shook his head, uttering a low humming sound.

"We haven't seen him since yesterday." Terra wasn't sure whether to be unsettled by this piece of information yet. He had been fit enough to run for his life, but there was no guarantee that he had made it back home safely. There were still hoards of Unversed around…

"Either he's lost somewhere or at home," the other guard added, not sounding very worried, then he raised his hand, pointing at something. Terra turned her head towards the village lying beyond the castle gardens. She could only see a couple of chimneys and rooftops. "I don't know what you want with him, but honestly I do not really care either. If you descend the stairs to the central square, take the alley on the left-hand side to the residential area. It's in an alley leading to the factory area. You shouldn't miss it; it has a little balcony and blue tiles. You should be able to find him there. Remind him to get back to work if you see him." Terra nodded, said her thanks and walked down the steps.

-o-

The house was at the very outskirts of the residential area. From the outside it was nothing special, just like all the other houses were. It was a small two story building, the front made both of wooden beams and crème coloured plaster work. The windows were framed by dark wood, making them look small. Also, the glass was covered by soot from the inside, so she couldn't really see anything. Terra took a step back from the window and looked up. There was no smoke coming from the chimney, maybe he was not at home?

Terra suppressed a sigh and crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking at the building indecisively.

"Do you need help, Miss?" The young woman turned around to find a middle-aged lady with a feather duster leaning out the neighbouring house's upper story window. Terra turned towards her and nodded.

"I'm looking for the man living in this house." The woman sighed heavily even before Terra had finished her sentence. "Is he home?" The woman leaned her arms on the window sill, the tips of the feather duster brushing her chin.

"Well. I don't know what happened – Braig has always been kind of a careless ruffian, so I should not be surprised. As a boy he usually came home dirty or with scratches… Anyway. I saw him staggering back home yesterday. He was wounded so I brought him a potion and some soup over, just in case." She sighed again, tapping the feather duster against the frame of the window. "It didn't look all that good to me." Terra frowned. Maybe it had been the right decision to come back. "Did you come to visit him?"

"I was worried," Terra said. It was only half the truth actually, but it still got her a warm smile from the woman.

"That's good… You're a good girl," she said, then she got up again, getting a hold of the window to shut it. "Will you get in?"

"I have a key," Terra replied and another smile – a knowing smile (Terra almost frowned) - made its way on the woman's face. "Give him my greetings!"

"I will," Terra muttered and heard the window close. She looked around to see if anybody was there, then she tried to open the door. It was locked, as expected. She materialized her Keyblade and pointed it at the keyhole. A flash of light and the satisfying click of the lock springing open later and Terra was standing in the hallway. When she closed the door, the house was cast into shadows, almost no light came through the windows. It was rather cool and the air tasted like ash. What Terra could see in the absence of proper light was that the floor was paved with stone tiles and that the walls were simple plasterwork, painted a muddy orange. She could see a mirror hanging on the wall next the door, but it had been smashed. The splinters were lying on the floor, just like an overturned side table that probably had its usual place under the mirror. Terra stepped over the mess only to find even more when the room opened up. There were stairs leading to the upper floor and behind the wall she had just passed there was a small open kitchen. The sink was filled with water, but it was stained with bits of soaked leftover food swimming on it and littered by unwashed plates and cups. The eating table, if it actually was one, was full of paper, plates, jars, bottles, candles, items and other things that didn't quite belong on a table anyway. The smell was bad, some leftovers must have been developing a life of their own somewhere underneath the chaos on the table. The floor too was dirty with dust and crumps and dry earth and grass. There also was a fireplace, almost a bit too big for the proportion of the house. Ash piled up inside of it and soot stuck to the walls and ceiling covering everything with a dirty black film. No wonder Terra couldn't have seen inside.

"Even Ven can clean his room better than this," Terra muttered, but chose to not inspect the rest of the mess of smashed plates and overturned stuff all too closely. It was not her business. Silently she climbed the stairs. Braig's guns were lying on the floor, scratches in the wood were they lay hinted at the fact that he had just thrown them there. She knelt down and looked at them, but she refrained from touching them, just in case they would go off. Another injury was to be omitted at all costs. The door to what probably was the bedroom stood open and when she listened she could hear breathing.

"So he _is_ at home?" she thought and carefully stepped over the weapons to look into the room. A mess like downstairs, heaps of clothes, papers, munny and items, carelessly thrown to the floor or hanging out of open drawers. The room was dark, the only light came from the door to the balcony where the blinds had not been properly shut. Also, something smelled nasty and she could see into an adjacent room which appeared to be a bathroom. Terra took a deep breath and settled her eyes on the figure on the bed.

Braig was sleeping. As carefully as possible Terra inched closer, hand ready to summon her Keyblade should it be necessary (but she doubted it, seeing as the man's weapons were lying in the corridor). Now that she was closer Terra noticed how Braig's breathing was laboured and shallow, with faint groans slipping from his lips now and then. His face was ashen and wrapped in bandages and plasters, stained with little dark red and black spots. His hands were clenching and unclenching, crunching up the fabric of his bedcovers.

Terra felt sick with guilt when she watched him. She had no idea how darkness might affect someone physically. She knew the gnawing feeling and low thud of violence and cold pulsating in her heart, but what about the body? Unsure, she reached out her hand and let it hover above Braig's face, before lowering her fingers enough to touch the back of them to the man's cheek. It felt warm, even that little touch. She hesitated, but then she felt his neck.

"High temperature," she mumbled and with a sigh she knelt down, staring at the floor while pondering about what to do. Check out the damage and run was no option after all. It had probably never been one. This was her fault, hers alone (well, of course, he should not have tried to fight her). She listened to him breathe and raised her eyes to look at his hand. She reached out her hand and put it over his, before closing her fingers around his palm. His hand was hot but dry and his fingers trembled. She closed her eyes and let healing spells carefully slip into his body. After a while his hand stopped trembling and his breathing calmed. Terra let go of his hand and stood up. "It's not much… But it'll help a bit," she said more to herself than to him, but hearing herself speak the words was comforting. She contemplated leaving again, but another glimpse at his resting figure made her reconsider. She looked around herself, then she raised her hands to slam her fist into her open palm. "Alright. Let's do this!"

-o-

Terra could well remember the time when Ventus had been asleep for so long and how she and Aqua had taken care of him. It had filled her with great unease to tend to him, knowing it to be her fault that he had collapsed in the first place. Terra shut the small window of the bath room with a sigh. She'd cleaned sick before and she had washed dirty things before, but she still got that uncomfortably sour taste in the back of her throat when she tossed the filthy towel into the dust bin. Cleaning the bath of a man she barely knew and even had fought against was not quite an agreeable or reasonable thing to do. Still, Terra felt it to be her duty to make amends. When she didn't quite know what to do, she found it calming to be on her own, to think, to put an order to things. Or she went out and tired herself with physical work, but now cleaning seemed to be the better choice considering the circumstances. She returned from the relatively clean bathroom with a wet washcloth only to find that Braig was stirring.

She stopped abruptly, not quite wanting him to wake up. Only when he didn't open his eyes she advanced. Apparently his fever had abated and his face was glistening with sweat. She transferred the washcloth from one hand to the other, indecisive, but then she sat on her haunches and started dabbing it against his face. She hadn't dared to replace the bandages and she still didn't dare to do it now. She didn't want to see what she had done, what the darkness in her could do. He wrinkled his nose at the cold cloth, but he didn't open his eyes - or the one that was not bandaged. This was really her fault. This was what she could do when she did not control the darkness. Why did she only see it now? Why did she only understand what her Master had tried to show her now? And why did someone else have to pay for her foolishness?

"I'm…," Terra started, slowly wiping over his cheek, then she hung her head, pain and guilt and fear gripping her heart and she felt that she couldn't breathe anymore. Her throat burned from suppressed emotion and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Sorry…!"

-o-

Braig's body felt heavy when he sluggishly moved from slumber back to reality. He remembered the pain he had felt before falling asleep. That darkness he had been hit with burned holes into him, chewing away at his substance. It had felt like poison (he'd know, he had made his acquaintance with a few poisonous creatures before) spreading through him, setting his body on a cold fire, his blood feeling like it carried little shards of glass, cutting him from the inside. Worst of all had been his eye though, or what used to be his eye. The pain had faded into the background, still there, but faint. Now he felt exhausted and hollow.

"Well, at least I survived," he said to himself with a dry voice. He pushed his arms against the bed and sat up. His head resisted by exploding into white dots and he almost fell back into the covers. Almost. When he dared to open his eye again he saw a glass filled with water on the nightstand. Strange, he couldn't remember putting it there. But he still took it, gulping it down greedily, a relief for his throat that had been mistreated enough by that darkness induced retching of some time earlier. And thinking about that…

"How late is it anyway?" Braig wondered, looking at the window. There was either still light out there or light out there again. Whether it was dusk or dawn he couldn't tell by the milky purplish light.

Braig sat up straight when he heard the water tap being switched on downstairs. He tossed back the covers and set his feet on the cold floor. He was still half dressed – hadn't bothered with taking off his trousers, it had been difficult enough to get off his shoes and jacket. He slipped into a shirt that he took from the floor, then he walked to the door, hand on the wall because he still couldn't see that well and his legs were faint and trembling at the strain of walking. Strain of walking! How idiotic! In the corridor he noticed his arrowguns standing against the wall even though he was sure that's not where he had put them. He walked down the stairs, hand on the railing. The smell of something edible (fresh, he had to add, not two days old food smell) met his nose and he frowned. That ruled out the possibility of Dilan or Aeleus coming to check on him (which would have been quite surprising anyway…).He walked down the last of the steps and looked into the kitchen. What he saw there was rather surprising. The mess had been reduced to some extent, the table was cleaned of all the things (that now stood next to the fireplace, but at least in organized heaps), the sink was empty, the counter cleaned. And then there was _Terra_, putting a glass on the table.

"What the hell is going on here?" Braig hissed, unsure if he wanted to be amused or flabbergasted. Maybe a mixture of both was adequate. Oh, and of course, suspicion. Terra crossed her arms over her chest. "Terra, huh? Fancy seeing you here," he said, mockingly, backing away slightly. Was his remaining eye playing tricks on him? Why Terra of all people?

"You're awake," she stated, watching him. It was her, alright. Even his messed up mind couldn't make up that condescending look she was giving him.

"Why are you here? How did you get in?" Terra raised an eyebrow and Braig snorted, lifting his hands. "Yeah, stupid question." Braig kept to the stairs, a healthy dose of caution not making him get any closer to Terra. If he had had this caution before, well maybe he'd still have two eyes now. "But the other one still counts. Enlighten me," he demanded. Terra sighed, letting her arms fall to her side, before pulling one up again to rub her neck.

"I just wanted to make sure that you're alright," she replied and earned herself a mocking laugh from Braig.

"Do I look alright to you? As if!" the man spat, pointing a finger to his right temple.

"I noticed," Terra replied, through clenched teeth, rather looking at the dirt on the floor than at the man. "Listen..." She raised her head, looking at him again. "I'm just staying in Radiant Garden until you've recovered. It's my way of apologizing for what I did to you. Even though I think you deserved a beating." She lowered her head again. "Using darkness was not… well." She shook her head and turned around to take a couple of little crisp buns from the oven. Then she walked out of the kitchen and past him towards the door. "Good bye." And as the door closed, Braig could only stare at it and the absurdity of the situation.

-o-

After that encounter Terra was rather unsure if this had been a good idea.

"Of course it was no good idea. But what else could I have done?" Terra asked herself, walking around the fountain court. What had she expected him to say or do? Be grateful for her help? What had she expected herself to feel? Maybe staying here was entirely selfish. She didn't really care that much about that man, not after what he had tried to do. It was more like that nagging feeling in her chest, that guilt that forced her to do something other than run and turn her eyes away. Not again. What became of this man was not her responsibility, but her heart, that part that was still governed by light, made it so. It was painful to just ignore it, so the best thing she could do was to go, help and hope for her own pain to abate.

Terra didn't know how much time it would take and how much time she actually had to spare when Master Xehanort had his expectations of her, but she _needed_ to stay. Terra reached into the pockets of her trousers and pulled out munny. She had to take a room for the moment, she couldn't just keep sleeping out in the open. Maybe Braig would tell her to get lost the next time she visited, then she was free to leave the world again, but until then she _had_ to stay.

-o-

Terra was quite true to her word Braig thought when he found her in the kitchen again at dusk.

"Hey, Terra," he greeted almost casually, even though her presence made him feel tense. Also, she just slipped into his house like a shadow, when he turned around she was just there. It unnerved him, this feeling of being at her mercy; the pain and frustration of the battle were still too fresh. Terra looked up from the hearth to study him. She turned her attention back to lighting it before asking: "How's your fever?"

"What fever? I'm all healthy," Braig replied and walked over to the table. He pulled a chair from underneath it and sat down, arm over the backrest. He watched her checking the contents of his kitchen. How she had managed to make bread that morning was rather mysterious to him, he didn't even know that he possessed flour or anything that went beyond sugar and dried meat. "I never thought you to be the housewife-y type, you know? More like an Amazon, shredding or blowing people to pieces." He tapped his finger to his cheek where there was still a plaster. He didn't dare touch the other side of his face yet. Terra nosily let the kettle fall onto the fire before she turned around again.

"You weren't healthy when I came here," Terra replied, ignoring his teasing, even though it stung more than she was willing to admit. Braig lifted his hands, raising his shoulders. His face was rather dark, even though there was a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"And who's fault was that?" Terra lifted her hand to her forehead, rubbing it, before she turned around, took the step that separated her from the table and slammed down her hand, bending down enough to be on eye-level with Braig. He raised his hands immediately, alarmed at the proximity and the dark expression on her face. "Woah, calm down!"

"It was _idiotic_ to pick a fight with me," she spat, then she breathed in through her nose and sighed, continuing with a more gentle tone, "but I should never have allowed the darkness to harm you." Braig looked at her in slight surprise, but then he chuckled. She lowered her eyes, looking away. "The darkness was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. And no matter what you did, I don't want it to destroy your life too just because I was careless." Braig had to snort at that.

"So you try to make it up to me by fussing over me?" Terra stood up straight again and turned back to the kettle to put in the vegetables she had chopped. Braig groaned and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair.

"Tell me to leave and I'll go." Maybe there was an almost hopeful undertone to her voice, a hope to be let away, to have shown enough good-will and guilt to make it alright. Braig must have registered this because a cocky grin formed on his face.

"Without making me dinner? As if."

-o-

Terra took pleasure in the nights of Radiant Garden. From her little rented room's window she could see beyond the castle walls to the dark clam waters and stretches of shady land ahead. There had still been people in the streets below some time ago, but now had fallen into hushed silence. She could hear water in the distance and the wind blowing through the small alleys between the houses. Every once and then she thought she heard bells, every once and then she thought she saw a shadow move in the dark. But she was calm. The dark was not as deep as it was in other worlds, it had a calm and soothing quality to it that even the dark in her home did not have. There were lamps illuminating some of the city and the little sparkling stones that had been imbedded into the paving of the streets reflected the light. This dark here promised new light. Terra sighed and stepped away from the window, letting herself fall down onto the bed. She was tired. Her body ached from having spent almost all of the day hunting down Unversed. She had looked out of Aqua and Ventus, but apparently they were not here. She had both dreaded and hoped to walk into any of the two – she didn't want to have to explain her actions, but she wanted to talk to somebody. She just needed advice, maybe some words of comfort. But in the end she was alone. And it was her fault.

-o-

Braig was sitting by his window, letting in some clean air. Terra had diligently cleaned the windows and the house looked decent enough now. The fever and pain though were still deeply rooted in his body and he couldn't walk around the house without smashing things.

"Having only one eye is quite unfortunate for a guard and sniper," Braig had told Terra earlier that day and she had felt guilty at once. Somehow he had liked that look on her face; the opening up of her stern expression, raising of eyebrows, lowering of eyelids and her lips opening up as if to speak just to stay that way until she looked away with an almost humble "hn…".

She was not only strong, but also beautiful. No wonder the old man wanted her so badly. Why he wanted her cracked by the darkness he was not so sure of. He had seen the rage on her face, raw darkness and it had caused fear in him. Now, thinking back, it had also caused awe; her body suspended in the air, Keyblade outstretched and that look of both pain and determination on her face. It had been… sublime to some extent. And maybe that was what the old man was looking for. Something captivating, something dangerous that you'll just have to try to reach, try to follow even if it'll destroy you.

"Evening, Braig!" The man was woken up from his thoughts and looked out of the window where he found his chatterbox of a neighbour standing in front of her house with a bouquet of flowers and groceries in her arms.

"Evening, Miss," he called back, waving slightly, "thanks for the potion and soup." She smiled at him, but also shook his head at his carelessness.

"I see you are better now," she said, opening her door. "Your girlfriend must take good care of you."

"Yeah," he said, but shot up only after she had closed the door with a giggle. "What? As if that-" he snorted when he realized that the chatterbox wouldn't hear him anyway. "Right…" He looked up to the still dirty clock standing opposite to the fireplace. "Where is she anyway?"

-o-

Terra was sitting on a bench on the town square, thinking. This was the third day she spent here, looking after Braig. How long should she stay? How much more time did she owe him? She was, she reminded herself with some pride, a Keyblade Master now. Master Xehanort had expectations and she was sure he wouldn't allow her to lose sight of her goal just because of a man that had caused them nothing but trouble. She drew her hand through her hair, then she got up and took her shopping bag.

It didn't take her long to reach Braig's home. The streets had fast become familiar and she could see the sun setting behind the castle in the distance. This evening she didn't even have to unlock the door with her Keyblade, because Braig was there to open it. She looked at him with surprise, but then he went back into the house wordlessly and she stepped into it. When she reached the kitchen he was already sitting at the table, guns on it, apparently cleaning them.

"Took you longer today. Not that I was waiting for you," he said casually, inspecting the guns. Terra took the food out of the bag, placing them on the counter.

"I was thinking…"

"Were you." Terra looked over her shoulder, frowning. "About what?" Terra huffed and turned back to preparing dinner.

"Why do you care?" Braig laughed and put the guns under the table, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Why do _you_ care?" he countered and Terra lowered her head. He studied the side of her face, even though it was mostly hidden by her brown hair. "Tell me Terra. Why do you care?" Terra lighted the fire, putting the meat in the pan. Then she turned around, wiping her hair out of her face rather quickly, before her hands shot up to the height of her shoulders to show that she too was not quite sure.

"Anybody with a heart would care. You lost an eye… You weren't supposed to be collateral damage." Braig blinked, then he burst out laughing.

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing," he said, putting his elbow on the table and chin in his palm. She watched him, then she huffed and turned around again. He looked at her preparing the food so responsibly. It was like Xehanort had said; there must be so much more light in her heart – that burst of darkness had come from a little dark area. A foreign thing maybe. Or maybe that was just the way Keyblade wielders (apart from the old guy) were. Maybe it was a rule to be nice and compassionate. Who knew. Braig didn't care.

"Well. If you care that much, just put a kiss on it and be on your way." Terra rewarded this suggestion with a frown.

"Is this how repaying a debt or healing works here?" she asked and Braig gave her a blank look. "Because I've heard that-"

"Kisses are the most powerful thing to break spells?" Braig asked, laughing loudly, shaking his head. Terra narrowed her eyebrows. "Don't take what your Mom told you when you were a kid so seriously!" When he had stopped laughing and noticed the lack of an answer, he looked up only to find a disgruntled expression on Terra's face and hurt flashing in her eyes before she turned away from him.

"I'll help you until you can manage things by yourself again…," she told him as if the last minute had not happened and he shrugged it off. "Even if that might take some time."

"It was just an offer to save you some trouble. Aren't there other places you need to be? I don't know, killing stuff and saving Princesses?" Braig asked, getting up to make himself useful. He took plates out of the cupboard but managed to send a glass flying because he hadn't seen it. It shattered noisily. "See? It might take more than just _some time_." Terra took the plates out of his hands, placing them on the table.

"Just take a seat," she told him sternly and he raised his hands, rolling his eyes. Braig watched her continue, after obediently sitting down. "Why…" Terra asked, picking up the broken pieces of the glass. She threw it into a little container under the sink. "Why is it so dirty in here anyway? Is it always like this?" Braig laughed.

"Well, I was rather unable to clean anything after our first pleasant little encounter," he said and Terra lowered her eyebrows. The man snorted, raising his finger. "But, you could say that I am a little… forgetful when it comes to taking out trash."

"Right," Terra said slowly and shook her head. Not her business. "It'll be clean as long as I'm here. However, I don't care if your house turns into a pigsty when I'm gone. I'm not your mother or girlfriend."

The second time today he heard that word that never had carried much meaning to him. And Braig had this thought, like a flash that crossed his mind. Just like geniuses did when they had great ideas. Only that his might not be all that intelligent or original. He thought that maybe it would be nice to kiss her after all.

She was good-looking, so much was sure and something about her… made her so intriguing. He didn't want to play around with her, he never had had any interest in doing that with anybody. Also, she was sincere about her intentions to help him. And that was surprising. Or maybe she was just desirable because he knew that he could not have her. All he could do is try to uncover all her secrets, but he'd never understand her and he'd never reach her. He could be a shadow, just like that darkness and he could be a stain she could never wipe off again. Somehow he liked that idea.

But he doubted _she_ would.

"Where are you staying anyway?" he asked when she served him dinner. "Hey. I attempted to set the table for two. Don't go running off again!" he protested when she wanted to start cleaning up, like usual. "Take a seat and eat with me." Terra frowned, but he tapped his finger on the table and she gave in with a snort. "Good girl." She shot him a warning glance.

"I rented a small room, at the other side of the town," she replied, cutting the potatoes with the side of her fork.

"So?" Braig asked, "and how do you pay for it? I don't think swinging around a Keyblade pays well." Terra looked at him with a blank expression, then she pulled her lips into half a grin.

"The more you fight the more you earn. It's all a question of hard work. And it certainly pays off better than being a petty criminal." Braig laughed.

"Give me a break! I'm not a criminal on all days of the year. That was just too nice an opportunity to give up on. These Keyblades don't grow on trees, they're rare and powerful stuff!" Terra heaved a sigh and looked at him like a mother would look at her child that had done something stupid despite her warning.

"I did tell you back then that they're picky about their wielders. Keyblade wielders have to be chosen, you can't just say you want to be one, pick up the blade and go on wreaking havoc. That's not how it works." Braig shrugged. What did he care about the rules.

"Anyway, my point was that you could stay over here if you'd like. I do have a comfortable couch. It'd save you some money," he offered but Terra looked at him suspiciously. And he couldn't even hold it against her, he did have some half-baked ulterior motive. "Hey, I'm trying to be nice here, don't give me that look!" Terra sighed, shaking her head and got up to put her plates in the sink. She wipes out her food like she wipes out her enemies, Braig mused, just with less violence. She probably just wanted to be gone as quickly as possible.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Terra told him and Braig lent back in his chair, one foot pushing at the table's leg.

"How so?" Terra turned to face him and now she was slightly coloured around the nose. An endearing soft red. Surprising, but a welcome sight, Braig thought and grinned.

"Do I really need to tell you? Keyblades and missions aside, I –". She shook her head, rubbing the back of her neck with a sigh. "Forget it." He knew what she had wanted to say, but kept silent. She turned to him, letting her arm fall back down. "Fact is that you're a guy I barely know."

"Oooh, right. I'm just that one guy you chose to blow the eye out," Braig said in an uninterested tone, dragging his words out and they made Terra narrow her eyes. Well, maybe Braig did like to play around with people. At least with their heads and consciousness (even though this was the first time anybody ever felt they owned him something and not the other way around).

"Ugh. Fine," Terra gave in, taking Braig's plate away.

"Hey, there are still carrots on there!"

-o-

Staying instead of leaving made Terra feel really uncomfortable. What else should she do here? What should she talk to him about? He was sitting on his couch, watching the fire with little interest. She just sorted through his junk, throwing away items past their expiration date, piling lose pieces of paper.

"Say Terra," Braig suddenly started and she looked over her shoulder. She could not see much more than his shoulder from her position on the floor. Apparently he had his head rested on the top of the couch's backrest. Braig watched the fire eating at the logs and spitting little sparks. He almost forgot he had started a sentence thanks to all the thoughts in his head.

"Yes?" Only her question reminded him to continue talking.

"Why is it so bad to have darkness in your heart?" Terra turned her head back to focus on the things on the floor.

"You felt it yourself. You know why it is bad. I can't control it. I shouldn't even have it. It's my duty to protect the light. I can't do that with darkness inside of me."

"So what are you going to do?" Terra sighed, sitting back on her haunches, staring at the now a little bit more orderly mess on the floor.

"I'll follow Master Xehanort," she turned around, looking at him with narrowed eyes, "that man you tried to use as bait."

"Bah. That's water under the bridge now," he said, sitting up straight and linking his arms behind his head.

"Is that so…," Terra mumbled, then she got up. "Master Xehanort trusts me… He will be all the guidance I need." Braig frowned, especially as he saw the hopeful look on her face. Ridiculous, as far as he knew, that old guy had totally different plans for the girl.

"How about making your own plans?" Braig suggested and Terra sat on the armrest of the couch, combing her fingers through her hair. She probably needed to wash it, Braig thought, it used to be spikier at the back. "Wanna take a bath?"

"I can't…" Braig raised an eyebrow.

"You can't take a bath?" Terra frowned. "Ah, make your own plans you meant." There was heavy silence and he blew out air through the corner of his mouth. He slapped his hands on his knees then he got up. "So, how about that bath? You're not close enough for me to say you smell, but you're probably not that fresh either, working for that munny." Terra rolled her eyes, but then she nodded. Braig grinned and walked around the sofa, to the stairs. He still had troubles judging distances properly, but it was getting better. The pain and the shock induced fever had abated too. It was not a quick process, but he'd be able to adjust to the darkness' damage.

He told Terra, but she still didn't seem pleased.

"You told me before… For a sniper only to have half the sight…," Terra started, sitting on the bathtub's edge and drawing her hand through the water slowly filling the tub. "One of the guards told me to remind you to get back to work…" Braig snorted. "But…"

"Nah. Come on, I'm sure Ansem the Wise – the guy I'm working for – will still find some use for me." Terra looked at him leaning against the doorframe.

"Hm… Well, to be honest your bullets didn't always hit their mark," Terra said, a small smile on her lips. "For a sniper you aren't really," she started, mimicking his voice, "how do they say? Good." Braig started laughing, shaking his head at her. She chuckled too, then she got up from the bathtub. She unfastened the ties over her chest and shot Braig a look over her shoulder.

"How about you give me some privacy now?"

"I can't. Haven't got a door," Braig replied with a grin, "but I'll go to Chatterbox to see if she can give you a nightgown. I haven't seen any suitcase on you, so you might want to change clothes every now and again. Dirty heroes are not that fashionable."

"Quit it with the hero talk, Braig," Terra said, shaking her head. "Are you sure you can get there without breaking your nose?"

"Haha, funny, aren't you." He left the bathroom and Terra heaved a sigh. She got undressed and slipped into the bath, submerging herself completely. When she sat back up she drew her hands though her hair, flattening it against her head and leaving her hands at the back of her neck.

Maybe she was being foolish, accepting to stay over. But… But what? He still had lots of dirt to clean away? He might not be able to work again because of her? He had not told her to leave yet? No… The answer was actually more simple than that, so easy.

Her heart told her to.

She didn't understand it, but it felt right to stay, right to help, right to care. The selfishness she had felt before had faded. But the bitter guilt was still there. Its raw edges had softened and no longer hurt, but they still stung when he mentioned it, when she looked at the bandages around his face, when he complained about another bruise from walking into a table.

She shook her head, trying to stop thinking about it. She took a vial that stood on the edge of the tub and let some of the fluid drop on her palm. Then she rubbed her hands through her hair, trying to ease out the knots. She washed the lotion off and got out of the tub, wrapping herself into a towel. She didn't feel comfortable enough to relax, all she needed was a quick wash.

She had just pulled the plug when Braig walked up the stairs. He took a peek into the bathroom, seeing her stand in front of the mirror with a comb. The towel was wrapped around her, but she was still wearing almost nothing.

She looked… much more feminine without wearing her clothes, more delicate and less destructive. He shoved the deceiving thought aside and showed her the bag he had received.

"Chatterbox said you could have them," he told her and put the things on the floor next to the tub, then he went back to his bedroom, getting ready for bed too.

"No broken nose or new bruises?" he heard Terra ask from the bathroom.

"As if!" he replied and sat down on the bed. She came back outside, rubbing her hair dry with a towel. She wore a short nightgown with laces around the nice, low-cut neckline.

"I'll do the washing tomorrow. I left my clothes in there if it's alright," Terra said, nodding her head towards the bath. Apparently she was rather oblivious to the effect the nightgown had on Braig. "What are you staring at?" Or maybe not.

"Your legs," he replied, which seemed to be the best answer out of his options. "Why hide them behind those appalling trousers?" Terra pulled at the hem of the gown – suddenly uneasy – but it still only reached the upper middle of her thighs.

"My clothes were a gift of my Master," she told him, "maybe it's the same reason why you wear a torn scarf." Braig laughed. Terra sighed and folded the towel, letting it hang over her arm. "When have you last changed your bandages?"

"I was actually thinking of taking them off tonight," Braig replied and saw Terra flinch. "Come on, I'm a big boy. I can do it myself." However, Terra approached and put the wet towel on Braig's night table.

"Hold still," she said then she pulled the plaster on his left cheek off (he hissed dramatically), revealing a dark scar. "It's like my Master's…," Terra thought, then she helped Braig unfasten the bandages around his head.

"Well, don't expect anything nice looking," the man warned her and Terra sighed, "you did blast my eye out. Or rather the darkness did." Terra rather looked at the bandages stained with dark spots, but no more blood, than at his face. But after a while she lifted her eyes, meeting one brown eye and a tightly shut eyelid with dark scars zigzagging all over it like little veins.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked and Braig shrugged. "I'm… sorry."

"I know," he told her and she lifted her hands to brush her thumb over the scar on his cheek. It was warm, but she felt the darkness still lingering in the scar.

"Maybe it will never quite heal… There's still-" she stopped when he put his hands over hers and drew it back down.

"Maybe it was worth it," he said and she looked at him in surprise. He was grinning slightly, still holding her hand in his. Terra coughed embarrassedly, then she straightened and withdrew her hand from his fingers. She grabbed the towel and turned around.

"Then… Good night."

"Night Terra," he said and lay down in bed, linking his arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling, still with that smile on his face.

-o-

Coffee and freshly baked, warm bread. Braig quite enjoyed waking up to those smells instead of being reminded first thing in the morning that he had forgotten to take out the rubbish once again.

"Man, what will I do when my girlfriend leaves me?" he asked with a moan, coming down the stairs. He sat down in his chair and took the bread Terra handed him. She was still wearing the nightgown and he could almost see through it in the morning light. Really, a nice way to start the morning, even though the buns she baked were always a bit too salty.

"I'm not your girlfriend," Terra stated with a flat tone.

"Chatterbox seems to think so," he told her and Terra shook her head with a disapproving snort. "What would be so bad about it? You prepare food, clean my stuff, earn some munny, while I hang around being useless and raise the kids to be cheeky brats useless to our radiant society. Sounds like a plan to me." Terra sat down and pulled a bun apart, making the crisp surface crack and crumbs raining down on her plate. Braig thought that somehow, even that looked dangerous when done by Terra; the sound of the surface breaking and the look in her eyes weren't that encouraging.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," she started, smearing butter on her bread, then she looked at him, pointing at him with the bread. "But I don't think that is how a relationship is supposed to work."

"Then good thing we're not in a relationship. Because whatever this is, it's great," Braig joked, then he drank his coffee. Terra remained silent though, absorbed in thought. When she still hadn't said anything after Braig had finished eating he groaned.

"Okay, what is it? Don't you like my eye patch?" Terra rolled her eyes, looking at him. No, his eye patch was a huge improvement to the bandages.

"There is nothing wrong with your eye patch," she said and Braig lifted his hands, inviting her to speak up. "It's nothing." Braig snorted, then he got up and started cleaning the table. "Braig?" Terra suddenly spoke up, turning around in her chair, hands on the backrest. He looked at her and she shook her head. "I can't stay here forever. When you are well then I'll leave. I do have my responsibilities." The man laughed, putting the plates in the sink.

"Why are you telling me this? I know that! Strong lady, big key, great mission. I got it," he said, snapping his fingers in front of her face. Terra lowered her head. "By the way, did you sleep well?"

"Hm… Yes…," she replied, almost startled by the swift change of topics. He always seemed to do that – it was both unnerving but also slightly soothing seeing as he did it when she felt uncomfortable with the topic of the conversation.

"Told you so." Terra sighed and got up.

"I'm going to do the washing," she said, then she left the ground floor. When she was gone Braig stopped cleaning the dishes and turned around, leaning against the counter and wiping his face with his fingers. But then he grinned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Now that's turning out to be quite interesting."

-o-

Terra was sitting on the little paved backyard behind Braig's house, washing their clothes in a big wooden tub.

Somehow… somehow things were going all wrong. Why had she come here in the first place? Why did she stay? What was going on now? Something in her heart was tugging uncomfortably and it was no longer guilt. It was more like a queasy feeling slowly spreading. It was Braig. Braig and some special kind of gravity he had, something that kept her staying, something that drew her closer. Why, why did her heart still not yell "stop it! Turn around, go!"? She was neglecting her true mission, just because this, whatever it was, felt comfortable for the moment. She was not here to be comfortable. And she certainly was not here to stay. Here to be his girlfriend, here to wash his clothes, clean his house, cook his dinners. No.

And while her mind kept urging her to do more reasonable things her heart kept holding her back.

_Ah, stay, stay a while. Why the hurry? Allow it. Fall towards his gravity, don't think._

She didn't want to.

-o-

Braig was watching her hang their washing from the window. She did it like it was the most natural thing in the world – these simple domestic scenes Braig witnessed, they almost made him laugh. He had only joked, or at least he had thought so. Strange… It really was strange how Terra intrigued him. He didn't quite know what he wanted and he couldn't do anything that would get in the way of the old man's plans. But how should he know if developing an interest in her was against the rules? He doubted it. There probably was no way at all to not develop an interest in her. However he was surprised how little hints and teasing came such a long way with Terra. She seemed to pick up on every line that was ambiguous and take it far more seriously than she should, almost as if she wanted what he implied. In any case, it was not that the outcome was all too bad. Just that tension between them. It was no longer caution because she could well blow out his other eye if she wanted to. No, it was more like the tension of elastic strings being pulled apart. The little quivering before the resistance would falter and they would snap back together, just like it was supposed to be, a perfectly natural state. It was that moment Braig was waiting for.

"Good. I'm done," Terra said when she heard him coming out into the backyard, clapping her hands and putting them on her hips, looking at her work approvingly. "Your uniform should be dry by tomorrow. You will be presentable enough to go to work, so maybe you should try shooting again." Braig shrugged, scratching his cheek lazily.

"Why the hurry?"

"Because I can't stay forever." He sighed inwardly. Resistance, tension. Right… Braig pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against and walked up to her, hitting her shoulder.

"Well, then come on. Let's shoot some monsters."

-o-

Terra watched as Braig made his way through the castle gardens which were still full of nasty little Unversed, even now after Terra had spent days getting rid of them. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest, watching intently as Braig took aim, shot, sometimes missed and sometimes hit his target.

"That's 10 meters away. Adjust. You've got the direction all right, but-"

"Shut up Terra," Braig hissed, took aim and shot. The Unversed was hit, but then it came for him in an uncontrolled zigzag. Braig cursed, took aim again, swiftly, shot. He got the thing, but it didn't fall before scratching him. He cursed, letting himself drop down into the grass. Terra crouched down next to him when Braig examined the cuts on his arm. Nothing serious, just a scratch in the already dented surface of his manly self-esteem.

"Well done," she told him, then she cast a small healing spell and patted his shoulder.

"You call that well done?" Braig snorted shaking his gun into the direction where he had first hit the Unversed. "You have low standards."

"You have only one eye," Terra reminded him and helped him up on his feet. Braig shrugged.

"As if I didn't know." He sighed, and scratched the back of his neck. He looked up into the sky; the sun had already sunken beneath the city walls, casting the town into a fuzzy shade of purple. "How about we grab something to eat?" Terra looked at him quizzically. "I'll invite you." Terra frowned, but Braig put his arm around her shoulder. "You can't say no, girl." So she said yes.

-o-

It was Night Fair in Radiant Garden, a bi-monthly festivity to celebrate their home's splendour and prosperity. The city was lit by columns of glittering light reaching high into the cloudless night sky and stalls were installed on the market square and beyond it. Terra rarely got to visit cities, especially one with markets and she took delight in browsing the stalls. At one she found a rather odd looking mask, painted with white and dark blue.

"I don't even want to wonder about how your house must look like," Braig muttered as Terra gave the man some money for it. She took the bag with a smile and then she turned to the man next to her with a frown. "You collect gross masks or something?"

"What if I did?" Braig shrugged. "No, this is for Ventus. He likes souvenirs," Terra explained, "I once gave him something I've taken with me from my home world and he was all over it."

"Aha…" Terra rolled her eyes.

"I don't need your approval, so shut up," she said and continued her stroll, Braig following with an amused grin on his lips. "I should get something for Aqua and Master as well…" Braig watched her pick some more presents and Braig tried to guess what meaning these presents held, who they were to and what kind of feelings they would evoke. Not that it was important, but he just wanted to know more about her.

"Oh, hey, what about this?" Braig stopped Terra and pulled at the loose fabric around her hip to move her towards a rather colourful stall where some girls were gleefully giggling over the items. Terra could see a wide range of jewellery and accessories.

"I've already got something for Aqua," she said apprehensively when Braig reached out and seemingly at random picked up a orange red gem hanging on a dark leather string.

"Of course, but she isn't the only girl you need to consider, don't you?" He held it against Terra's chest and she took a surprised step back. Braig laughed at the look on her face and held it out to her. He showed it to the vendor and gave him some munney. "It's not the cutest thing on offer, but I can't really picture you with a headband with pink puppies on it." Terra's frown only deepened and Braig handed her the necklace.

"Just take it," he said and put it into the little paper bag she was carrying.

"T… Thank you," Terra managed to say, her frown disappearing quickly to be replaced by confusion. Braigh laughed, shaking his head. They started walking again, making their way through the lively crowd. Terra glanced down into her bag, where she could see the necklace lying on top of the scarf she had gotten Aqua.

"I used to wear dresses when I was a child," she suddenly spoke up and Braig looked at her. "I," she laughed and shook her head, "I just haven't thought about it anymore… How much I liked them and how spoilt I was as a little girl."

"Well, let's be honest, your trousers are some kind of pants-skirt chimera… Apparently you can't decide what to wear," Braig said and Terra snorted. She was comfortable the way she was and she had accepted long ago that she'd never be as elegant as Aqua was even though it was something she had had to grapple with when they both had hit puberty. She was strong and highly destructive, so she didn't need grace, this was what she had always told herself. But… Hadn't Aqua been the one to be made Keyblade Master? Wasn't Aqua equally strong? Her Master used to tell her that she didn't need to be a girl, that a being a servant of light was quite enough to make her content with her life. Not so with Aqua and Ventus; he had never told them to not be something that they were… But who exactly was she now?

"How about some food?" Terra raised her head slowly, looking at Braig with a puzzled expression. "Food? You're hungry?" She nodded and he bid her to wait. She looked up into the sky, thinking. Braig was back in no time with something to eat and drink. They sat down on the grass where many other people enjoyed the illuminated city and the festive atmosphere.

"It is nice," Terra said after a while, eating her food. Braig looked to the side and found her smiling at him. A genuine smile that made him excited just looking at it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Braig answered because he could not find anything to say that didn't sound overly tacky. Terra's smile widened just a bit, then she turned her head to look up at the sky. It was still purplish, like it always seemed to be in Radiant Garden. Somehow, this place reminded her of her home and that realization stung. The stars were only faintly visible because of the light, but they were still the same stars that she, Ven and Aqua had been marvelling at for years. Braig sensed the change in her and looked at her questioningly.

"What?" he asked but she shrugged. He continued watching her, but then he acted on impulse and embraced her. "Let's just say you are cold then." Terra didn't even resist, but she remained silent. He tightened his embrace, finding the most comfortable position to hold her, putting his chin on the top of her head.

"Hn," she mumbled in agreement and closed her eyes. Thinking of home.

-o-

It was dark when they returned, Braig silently opening the door and closing it behind Terra. They didn't bother to switch on the light, walking in the dark.

When had this place become so familiar?

"I think it is time to leave," she said, sitting on the floor in front of the cold fireplace, the bag with her gifts lying next to her. Braig stood behind the couch, arms on the backrest.

"I had a feeling you'd say that," he told her and she looked over her shoulder to find a forced smile on his face. "I should have missed more targets today."

"It's best to leave as long as I still can," she told him, "I need to do what is required of me. I… tried to set things straight with you… And I still have more to amend… More to repent…" She shook her head, staring into the cold fireplace. "One day… I want to go home…"

"Well," she heard the man say and watched him walk around the couch to sit down. She leant her head against the rough fabric, the floor cool under her. "Maybe you didn't set things straight with me… But at least you tried." He drew his hand through the spikey ends of her hair. He found them to be oddly soft.

"I'm…" Terra started, looking away.

"Sorry?" Braig offered, bending down a bit more, "yeah. Me too." They were silent for a while until he got up.

"Well. I'll get ready for bed, my muscles ache and I have a headache." He patted Terra on the shoulder, but before leaving he knelt down. "Remember what I told you some time ago? Put a kiss on it and go. My offer still stands…" She managed a half smile and nodded. But as she didn't move after that he got up again and went upstairs.

He undressed and let himself fall on his mattress with a sigh, tousling his hair so it fell into his face. Terra left a blank in his mind. She confused him, she humbled him with her sincerity, she made him laugh, she made him doubt, but she also made him long, made him want to possess. Like she was that temptation, that one thing that could leave him falling into darkness out of his own volition. Oh, how he understood Xehanort. She might still have a powerful heart, but she could only lead the way into darkness. He understood. He got it. But he still wanted her, desired the nothingness she had to offer, the hollowness that would follow in her wake, the silence when everything was said and done. She was sublime, he wanted her, but he could never have her. He could grasp at her shadow she cast on him, touch the tips of her hair, brush her fingers, kiss her image.

She would probably never be his, but he could still reach out for her silhouette of light in the darkness.

"Braig?" He looked up, surprised to find Terra standing in front of him. He had been so absorbed in thoughts that he hadn't even heard her approach. Again. Like a shadow. She really was dangerous. He looked up at her, her face cast into shadows, framed by her brown hair. But he could still see her expression. He lowered his gaze.

"Heh, so you came to say good-bye after all," he said, but he reached out to grab her hand. She was wearing that nightgown again and when she bent down towards him he got a nice view of what the dress usually attempted to conceal.

"No…," Terra said, shaking her head. "I came to say good-night." She squeezed his hand and inched a bit closer until she clearly could feel his breath on her face and his warmth creeping into her. She closed her eyes and brushed her lips against his. Carefully, shyly. It was nothing more than a touch, but finding his lips to be warm and soft, she tried again. She pressed her lips to his and he put his free hand in the small of her back, drawing her closer. She had to steady herself by putting her hand on his shoulder, withdrawing shortly to breathe out. Braig felt the warm air against his wet lips. He had been wrong; there was magic in this kiss. Dark magic, he felt it tickling on his skin.

"Terra…," Braig whispered, but she covered his mouth with hers again. Open mouthed kisses, little wet sounds, sharp intakes of air. Then she let go and a sob escaped her, an involuntary sound that had found its way around the tight knot in her chest and throat, past the burning, past the pain. Braig drew her near, holding her, head on her soft chest. Braig assumed that the magic had started working long before this kiss, a kiss that usually signalled closure in the fairy tales he barely cared to remember. He did not know where they stood, but he was sure that the path began with that burst of darkness.

It was like gravity, like their moving towards each other in the past week was natural, necessary. Terra could not defy gravity and Braig didn't even want to try.

"… Terra," Braig mumbled against her chest as she silently cried.

She did what her heart had told her to, but it was all wrong, all wrong. Her mind just kept telling her how pointless this was, how messed up. But saying no hurt, like the darkness, like this swamp in her heart. It ate away at her, little gulp by little gulp. When she said no it became more greedy, when she said yes it became more painful. There was nothing she could do, no road between, no road of just walking away, or forgetting.

He kissed her chest, just below the collarbone and she withdrew enough to look at him. He smiled at her, but it was a regretful smile. She put her hands on the sides of his face and kissed him again, salty now, then she slipped out of his hands, her dress brushing his fingertips and then she was gone.

Braig fell back into the bed, arm over his face and a low chuckle escaped his lips.

"Heh. Good night." She was gone but there was still her taste lingering on his lips and the warmth of her body like left-over magic tickling his hands.

-o-

When Braig awoke to faint light shining into his room he felt like he had not slept at all but still that everything might just have been a dream. The taste of her was gone, the warmth of her too, there was just the memory and the hollowness of her absence. He felt sluggish when he got up, his mind replaying the feeling of her kiss, the texture of her lips, the pressure of her hands, the sound of her sob.

There was no scent of freshly baked buns, no coffee, but he could hear the fire burning in the fireplace. It illuminated the ground floor, but also made it appear alien with all the moving shadows. He really had too much junk standing around the room, too much junk casting too m any shadows. Wiping his hair out of his face, he walked to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of water. Maybe it would wash away the bitterness.

But he had known what he would get himself into, he had been will-

"Good morning." Braig almost dropped the glass when he heard Terra's voice. He had nearly missed the soft sound between the crackle of the fire. But there she was, sitting on the floor again, still in Chatterbox' nightgown, illuminated by the fire. He put the glass on the counter and walked over to her and then it was gravity once again, pulling him down. He let himself fall down next to her and stared at the flames.

"I thought…"

"It was good-night, not good-bye…," Terra interrupted and looked at him. "But I do have to leave…" Braig sighed, then he put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

"It's still early. If you have to leave, leave later. Come to bed, it's warmer there," he told her and she withdrew from his embrace to look at him. "I'm not-"

"Yes." He looked into her eyes, an indefinable colour due to the fire, sometimes flashing yellow, but then she closed her eyes and got up on her feet. He got up too, eye never leaving her.

She seemed like a spectre in the dancing shadows cast by the flames. At home, their master, gliding through light and shadow soundlessly. Terra. She smelled like it too, like the earth after fire had ravaged it.

His bed was still warm from sleeping in it and somehow, when she slipped under the blanket with him, he was a bit conscious of how it might not smell all too fresh and that maybe he had drooled in his sleep. But Terra slipped his hands up his chest and around it to his back, resting them there, before pushing her forehead against his chest.

"You are warm," he told her and breathed in the scent of her hair. Funny, the lotion smelt different on her than on him, though there was still faintly his scent lingering around her too. And it made him darkly content. Maybe he would be the shadow, the stain after all.

Maybe this all was darkness after all. Maybe this was the swamp telling her it was right, maybe it was the corrupted part that urged her to stay and kiss and want. Because it was foolish, because by nightfall she'd be gone. Then there would be guilt and exhilaration all over again. Maybe this was just what was destined for her to happen, maybe she had sunken too low and a dream that was a mere faint sparkling far above the surface might never be within reach again. Maybe she had already lost when she had first felt the darkness tickle her skin. The only thing she could do now was run around in circles trying to make amends, to stick the broken pieces back together, to mend. But she was only tearing holes, creating distance and losing sight of what was really important.

"Terra…" She let go of him and lay on her back while he was looking at her from the side, propped up on an elbow. He then slowly rolled over, bending over her. His fingers touched her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, before he firmly took a hold of her sides and bent down enough to kiss her. Terra opened her mouth to breathe in, to taste and he kissed her lower lip, slightly sucking on it. The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips afterwards and then it touched his teeth, his lips. And they were kissing again, deep now, Terra's hands almost painful as they closed around his shoulders. She was far stronger than him, she could crush him and snap him in half if she wanted to. Knowing this sent a shiver of dangerous excitement down Braig's spine and he whispered her name against her lips almost feverishly. And his heart was beating hard, a tornado of sizzling hot fire spiralling inside of his chest, making him gasp against her mouth, fire making his thoughts hazy and his body moist. Against his almost delirious desire, she seemed slow paced, calm. Her hands travelled down his chests excruciatingly slow, inch by inch, leaving behind a trail. He could feel the lingering shadows of her touches and like bleeding watercolour lines they were flowing towards the centre of his chest, forming a puddle, creating a sense of desperation, of agonized longing and need.

With a quick movement he reached down and pushed the hem of her nightgown up, drawing his palm over her thigh, memorizing the texture of the soft flesh and trembling muscles underneath. Terra didn't stop him and he reached between her legs, playing, exploring. Terra made a sound that almost sounded like a protest, but she just shifted and kissed his chin.

He thought then that her name was actually quite fitting. Terra... He felt like a child, digging into the warm, moist earth after a Spring shower, trying to find the precious green buds of new plants. Maybe, just maybe, Terra would bloom for him if only he was careful enough.

_Terra_.

She was breathing loudly now, one arm around his neck, her sweaty forehead pressing against his chest. Occasionally he felt her lips against his skin, open mouth and hot moist breath, warm lips, soft kisses, a sigh, a moan, teeth nipping him.

She reached out her hand and put it over the one caressing her, guiding it away, then she pulled at him, down until his body covered hers like a heavy blanket.

"Stop?"

"No. Go on," was all Terra said, then she reached out to pull down her underwear, pushing up her dress even more. Braig didn't ask if she was sure about it. He didn't want her to think, to second guess, to realize how rash they were both being. He would not have wanted to stop even if she had doubts. He didn't speak, didn't warn, didn't ask about anything. He just moved, fast out of his clothes, slower towards her and slowly but steadily into her.

She gasped, open mouthed deep breaths, face tilted towards the ceiling and eyes barely open. The sensation was peculiar, smooth, deep. Braig's hands were on her rips, just underneath her breasts, crunching up the fabric of the nightgown. She could feel how warm and sweaty they were even through the silk. She shifted her legs and he slid even deeper into her. And it was what she wanted now and nothing she had ever wanted before. Passion and desire spread from every place where they were connected, like waves until her whole body seemed submerged in raw emotion, raw passion.

Right now she felt like she would forever be gravitating around him and his movement, his body, his heat, his hot breath hitting her forehead, her lips and his voice. Just Braig and she dissolving into something without shape if his weight wouldn't keep her together. She felt like never getting back to the surface again. Everything sped out of sight, out of reach, but she could see his brown eye gazing back at her.

-o-

Terra was standing next to the balcony when Braig woke up a second time that day. She was fully dressed in her normal clothes, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, head against the cool glass.

"You're still here," he said, sitting up with a groan. Maybe he was surprised, but somehow he hadn't expected her to run either. Her eyes shifted from the window towards him.

"Yes." Nothing more. And she turned her head back towards the outside. It was past midday, Braig guessed. No point in staying in bed any longer and he got up to wash and dress. He heard Terra walk through his bedroom and down the stairs. He leant down, forehead hitting his mirror, hair hanging into his face. It took him incredibly long to splash water in his face, to wake up properly, to force himself down, to sit at the table. His eyes were focused on how she turned around the cup of tea in her hands. From side to side, rolling around in her palms. He didn't feel like eating anything.

"It was nice," she spoke up into the silence.

"Yeah," he replied, then he raised his head, only to find her looking lost and uncertain. It almost made him crack a bit. That expression, almost like she seemed disappointed in herself, almost afraid, almost hurt, but still strong enough to not falter. He pushed the breakfast away, but before he could move or speak she already had got up.

"I have to leave now." His hand, ready to reach out for her, fell back on the table's surface and he shrugged, getting up slowly. He followed her outside, a few steps behind her. He was already a shadow. He felt like he probably still could reach out and touch her, hold her back just a moment longer but he never tried.

They were at the gardens when she finally stopped, amidst all the flowers. She looked at him, silent, calm, but then a smile formed on her lips.

"Returning to Radiant Garden didn't quite turn out as I had expected it to," she spoke up, her voice clear and strong, just like it should be. Her hand travelled up to her chest, almost unconsciously and tightened there. A dull pain had settled in her chest, but she knew she was supposed to be content. She had done what had been right, she had helped and cared. Her heart was appeased, the gnawing guilt and shame momentarily satiated. But something lingered there, in her heart, casting a faint shadow on those parts she knew were still filled with light.

"Heh," Braig snorted, "did you think I was thrilled when I saw you standing in my kitchen? As if!" Terra shrugged. She had not cared much about what he thought about it at the beginning, it had been about healing herself in the first place. But that healing herself had also encompassed helping him was fortunate. She looked at him and he faltered under her gaze. "But I soon realized that it was probably the best thing. A good compensation for getting my face shredded. I would do something stupid again if it meant you coming for me again," he said before he could think over the words and Terra's eyes softened.

"Don't be foolish, Braig. Leave your hands off the darkness," she said sternly, but he could see the kindness and concern in her expression. Braig put his hands on his hips and laughed, shaking his head. But he didn't make any promises he knew he'd break. Now more than ever. Her eyes lingered on him, then she nodded and turned around. With a flash her K eyblade appeared in her hand.

"What? No good-bye kiss then?" Braig asked, watching Terra's back, watching that Keyblade transform into some sort of vehicle. She turned her head a bit, looking over her shoulder. Braig pulled his mouth into a grin and walked up to her. "Maybe you should remember my face," he said pointing at his scar, "to recall what you did. To me, with me. Darkness, light, whatever the cause. Just remember well," he said. Her face turned into a frown, but he took another step and placed a kiss on her lips. She merely watched him when he withdrew, shoving his hands into his pockets, an almost nasty grin plastered on his face.

"As if I would forget," she replied with a huff, eyebrows pulled down, then another flash of light and Braig saw her mount her vehicle dressed in shining armour. And off she was, no words of good-bye. But the flashes of light still left after images on his vision, her scent mixed with his still lingered in his nose, the texture of her lips was still on his mouth.

"You'll uphold your end of the bargain, as you've said," Braig spoke into the silence and heard a low, dry chuckle. Master Xehanort stepped out of the shadows of the fountain.

"It's only a matter of time," he replied eyes focused on the swiftly closing portal, then he looked at the man next to him. "This was rather unexpected though. But I can't say that it gets in the way of my plans." Braig laughed, a hollow laugh that didn't stir anything in his heart, and shook his head.

"As if! I just had to leave my footprint as long as the ground's still pliable." Master Xehanort looked at him from the corner of his eyes, then he snorted.

"Pah. Never knew you to have a way with metaphors." Braig grinned and Xehanort turned around, glaring at him. "Well. Good that you did, because you'll no longer get the chance to meddle with her when I'm done. From now on the only thing you'll do is follow."

"Like a shadow," Braig added triumphantly, almost not audible, but of the course the old Keyblade Master had heard. He followed Xehanort when he was walking away. He did not know where this path would lead him, but like Terra he had made his choice. And it lay in darkness.

-o-

The ties of gravity had freed her as soon as she left the world behind, speeding through space, darkness and light. The familiar tide of darkness seeping into the untainted parts of her heart was still there. Nothing would be able to change that, not after she had used it, not now when she was sure that there was no way around using it again. But there also was something new, something that made her turn her head towards the fast disappearing light of Radiant Garden.

Maybe she had set something right, maybe she had mended something, maybe she had gained something, but maybe she had also lost. She was not sure what yet, but there was something new in her heart. She didn't know where it belonged, darkness or light, because it felt like it was just there in the middle between both, not yielding to either. Like a black stain on her mind, she kept thinking about it and even if she pushed it away to focus on more important things, it was there, comfortably nested in her heart, waiting. Growing roots, forever there to stay even though it might never become visible again.

It would probably become familiar in due time, constantly existing, even when it was concealed, not hurting, a faint tickling, a faint echo. Lingering. Just like his scent and the never fading darkness in him and in her.

-o-

Epilogue

He was there, her shadow, watching her. Memories had faded and he wasn't even sure who she was anymore. But there was still his scent on her and that confused look breaking through the blank expression. She did remember something, some stain in her heart, smudged, but not gone, maybe the distant pull of gravity. And he was always there, to touch, to tease, to confuse.

She was still powerful, but maybe she had forgotten. At least she never leashed out, she rarely resisted at all.

"That Xehanort. She looks slightly different," Dilan started, watching Xehanort and Even bending over books, engaged in a hushed conversation over something none of the guardians cared too deeply about. Braig saw the gem dangling on a leather string, casting little sparks of light onto the pages. "But isn't she that girl that came looking for Braig some time ago?" Aeleus nodded, not saying anything. Dilan tilted his head to the side, eyes focusing on Braig. "Who is she? Spill it!" Braig laughed, leaning back in his chair with a pleased grin.

"What do you think?" Dilan wrinkled his nose in annoyance, but then his expression became smug.

"Whoever she was to you, though luck that she can't remember a thing now," he continued, appearing to be bored with the topic already. Braig could tell that he wasn't. The woman had that aura about her, that awe-inspiring, intriguing and tempting one. Even her cold and disinterested expression couldn't change that. All of them had known that she was dangerous the moment they had laid their eyes on her. But also that she was a danger that none of them could possibly want to refuse. Braig turned his head towards where Xehanort was standing and found her brown eyes (peculiar, brown didn't really match her) looking at him. That expression again, as if she tried to recall something that was nothing more than a faint tugging in a distant place of her heart. Braig loved this power, this superior position, the knowledge he had, the way she tolerated him just because there was something about him that she couldn't place.

He'd be her shadow, looming in the dark, always there at her call, always watching her back, her actions. Looking into her secrets, into her darkness, into the darkness of the world as it lashed out at them. And he could never regret it.

_FIN_


End file.
